


baby put your hands on me

by poiregourmande



Series: Ryan Bergara, Erotic Masseur [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Background Married Shara, Erotic Massage, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Massage With A Happy Ending, No cheating, Sex Worker Ryan Bergara, Touch-Starved Shane Madej
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: “I booked you an erotic massage!” Sara announces on this morning’s FaceTime session.Shane chokes on his coffee. “A what?”“Y’know,” she says mischievously, a glint in her eye Shane will never stop being in love with, “a massage with a happy ending.”“Why?”“Why not? I know you, babe, you’re probably crawling out of your skin needing to be touched right now."





	baby put your hands on me

Never let it be said that Sara Rubin doesn’t know her husband. She has to spend two months out of town for work, and it’s hard, but they make it work: she sends him care packages, they FaceTime as much as they can, and he’s got Obi, so at least he’s not home alone for eight weeks. 

No matter how many times he tells her that  _ it’s okay, babe, I’m a big boy, go have fun _ , however, Sara knows he’s gonna get antsy after a few weeks without physical touch or sex, so she plans a surprise for him for the beginning of week five. She doesn’t let him know what it is until the day of, just tells him to save the date. 

“I booked you an erotic massage!” she announces on this morning’s FaceTime session. 

Shane chokes on his coffee. “A what?”

“Y’know,” she says mischievously, a glint in her eye Shane will never stop being in love with, “a massage with a happy ending.”

“Why?”

“Why not? I know you, babe, you’re probably crawling out of your skin needing to be touched right now and, as fun as last night was, it wasn’t enough, was it?”

Shane stays quiet for a moment, put off. “I should be able to last for a couple months without my wife,” he mumbles finally. 

“No one is questioning this, Shane. It’s just a fun thing to help it go by faster, y’know? But if you’re not comfortable with it, I can call and cancel, alright?”

Shane swallows. “So what does it entail?”

Sara tries to hide a grin. “You get a massage by a cute guy, and you can go further if it feels like something you’re into. And you tell me all the saucy details afterwards, of course.” She winks. 

***

Shane walks up the stairs of a residential-looking apartment building, wondering if he’s got the right address. He can’t find a sign that he’s at the right place, but he supposes that’s the whole point. He’s more nervous than he’s been in a while — thoroughly out of his element, not knowing what to expect. 

The girl at the front desk is probably used to it, though, because she offers a soothing smile and a glass of water. Tall, with a bleached bob, a slight southern accent, and a smile that’s suggestive but not salacious, she puts Shane at ease almost immediately. 

“I’m Devin,” she says. “Ryan will be with you shortly.”

_ Ryan.  _ Shane repeats the name in his head. It doesn’t really help him know what he signed up for, or what kind of guy he will be, but it does help make things not so scary. A good, simple name. What could go wrong with a Ryan?

He takes a seat, drinks his water, taking in his surroundings. It doesn’t look that different from the front desk of a regular spa, plants and exposed brick, candles and soft music. Devin’s desk is home to an elegantly arranged display of crystals, and if he didn’t know any better he’d think he’s here to, like, get his aura cleansed or something.

“Shane?” asks a voice, warm and inviting. 

Shane looks up to see a short, muscular guy, in a tight — too tight — pink button-down and some skinny jeans, with tan skin and dark hair, and a smile that makes all of Shane’s anxiety coil into a cloud of soft lust in his gut. 

“Hi, I’m Ryan.”

Now, when Sara said ‘cute guy,’ Shane didn’t know she meant ‘drop-dead gorgeous, could be an actual model’ guy. A little warning would have been nice so he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

He springs up to his feet far too eagerly, reaching to shake Ryan’s hand — do you shake your erotic masseur’s hand? Shane doesn’t know. There’s a lot about this Shane doesn’t know, and it’s unsettling.

“Hi! Shane. I guess you know that, though, you did just call my name,” he catches himself, wishing very much that Ryan could cut in and stop his rambling. 

“Welcome,” Ryan says, smiling in a way that makes Shane feel soothed, at ease.

His hand is warm and soft, strong in a way that sends an electric current down Shane’s spine. 

He hands Shane a bundle of white terrycloth — a bathrobe and a towel, at a glance — and guides Shane towards a locker room. 

“Take a shower, get yourself nice and clean, comfortable, and join me upstairs whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Nervousness gains Shane again as he suds himself up, thorough as he can, but it’s an exciting kind of nervous. Ryan is probably the most gorgeous guy he’s ever seen in person, and Shane’s skin is practically vibrating at the thought of his hands on him. 

Shane is a tactile person, but only with people he’s comfortable with. With Sara away, he’s got no one to tuck under his shoulder while they watch tv, no one to kiss on the head while they make dinner, no legs to tangle in his in the middle of the night. No skin to press against his, warm and soft and sweet-smelling. 

He might be going mad with need. 

His hands are shaking as he makes his way upstairs, squeaky clean in his plush bathrobe, wondering why he even bothered dressing up in his fancy button-up and pants, since he had to change out of it and will probably be naked the whole time anyway. 

Upstairs, Ryan, now in a black bathrobe, welcomes him to a roof terrace, an intimate space surrounded by tall hedges for privacy. They sit down on a loveseat, and Ryan offers him champagne, and a platter of fruit and dark chocolate. 

“Is this your first time here?” Ryan asks. 

Shane nods, taking a sip of champagne to calm his nerves. “It’s my first time with, um, any kind of sex worker?”

“Gotcha.” Ryan smiles. “Can I ask what kind of experience you’re looking for?”

“My wife sent me here… um, she’s out of town for a while, and I guess she knew I’d get like… touch-starved?”

Ryan nods like he gets it, like he wants to hear more, and Shane knows he’s paid to act this way but — maybe it’s just wishful thinking — it feels sincere. In any case it makes Shane feel more at ease. 

“So like, I guess I’m looking for some touch, some affection and,” he blushes deeper than the strawberries on the platter, “something better than my own hand?”

Ryan chuckles. “I got you, big guy.”

Shane swallows, throat dry despite the champagne. “Can I ask what’s allowed?”

“Basically anything but penetration.” He pauses for a moment, carefully considers Shane. “Kissing’s allowed,” he says finally. “Encouraged, even.”

Shane lets out a very uncharacteristic giggle and looks away. “Okay. Thanks.”

It starts like a regular massage — Shane lies face down on the table, naked under the soft sheet, his face in the donut hole. Ryan squeezes almond oil into his hands and it sounds so much like Shane’s bottle of lube at home that his dick gives a twitch — or maybe it’s the imminence of physical touch. 

Ryan tucks the sheet low over Shane’s hips, keeping his legs warm while he’s not working on them, and suddenly he’s touching Shane, hands warm and slick across Shane’s back. The only difference with a regular massage is that Ryan trails his fingers in soft, teasing touches in between undoing knots in Shane’s shoulders, and that he leans in real close, pressing his body against Shane. He ditched the bathrobe at the same time as him, standing there in the tiniest, tightest black briefs. 

At the first graze of Ryan’s hands down his spine, Shane lets out a long moan. He hadn’t realized just how touch starved he’d been. This is why Sara knows him better than he knows himself.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Ryan asks in a throaty voice. 

Shane’s dick goes from lightly twitching to fully erect in a few seconds, trapped under Shane’s belly. A soft whimper escapes his lips. 

Ryan massages his neck, his back, his arms and even his hands — for a moment their fingers are tangled and Shane almost forgets to let go. 

Ryan switches the sheet from Shane’s legs to his back, and begins massaging his way down his legs, starting at the very top of his thighs, where the swell of his ass recedes. 

It takes all of Shane’s willpower not to spread his legs, beg for something more — he probably could, this is what he’s here for, but somehow it feels too soon. He wants to enjoy the massage, the soft touches, before going further. Wants his body to keep melting under the sunshine of Ryan’s touch. 

Ryan digs his thumbs in the arch of Shane’s foot, and Shane cannot bite back a moan. Ryan runs a soothing hand down his calf, his other hand still pulling moans and whimpers working at his foot. 

Too soon, Ryan lets go of Shane’s feet and tucks his legs back under the sheet. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in the sexy version of a zen voice, “you can turn to your back.”

Shane has to take a minute — his entire body feels molten, boneless. It takes all his willpower to move. 

He finally does, flipping under the sheet, weirdly caught between muscle-deep relaxation, and excitation buzzing under his skin.

“Good,” Ryan whispers, going to stand at Shane’s head. 

He weaves his fingers through Shane’s hair, digging into his scalp and massaging his temples. Shane lets out a blissful hum that turns into a moan when Ryan’s hands travel down his neck in feather-soft touches. 

Ryan folds the sheet over to unveil his torso, hands smooth and warm as they explore Shane’s chest. Shane can feel his nipples hardening under his touch, wants to feel his mouth on him. Of their own accord, his hips buck off the table, and the sheet slides down his thighs. 

Ryan gives a fond chuckle. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re so hard,” he says, grazing his hands down Shane’s thighs, ignoring where Shane needs him the most. “Is that all for me?”

“Please,” Shane whimpers. 

This is how the dam breaks. At the first plea, the second he allows himself to ask, a stream of begging comes out. 

“Oh, please, Ryan, I need it, god, please touch me, I —”

“Okay, baby, okay.” Ryan caresses his cheek soothingly. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

He wraps a slick hand around Shane’s cock at last, climbs up on the table, sitting next to Shane, and the press of Ryan’s thigh against his feels almost as good as the hand on his dick. 

Shane reaches up, pulls Ryan in. Their lips meet in a desperate, breathless kiss that leaves Shane strung up and halfway between coming and sobbing. 

“It’s been a while, huh, baby?” Ryan asks, dragging the words along Shane’s jaw. “Bet that feels so good, someone taking care of you…”

Shane whines, legs spreading so wide one of them dangles off the table. His hands travel up and down Ryan’s back — he’s missed touching, too, missed raising goosebumps under his fingertips, missed warm, soft skin, even though this one is taut over strong muscles instead of tender and ticklish on a tiny frame. 

His fingers hook into the waistband of Ryan’s briefs — his gaze hooks into the bulge tenting the front. 

“Can I?” he chokes out. 

“You don’t have to,” Ryan says — practiced words that don’t sound like he really wants to say them. “This is about you.”

Shane’s hands are more insistent. “I want to — I… sex is always a two-way street for me. I missed this part too.”

Ryan smiles, soft and content as Shane pulls his underwear over the swell of his ass. Ryan pushes them off the rest of the way and Shane makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut. 

“You — fuck, you’re gorgeous, I want…”

Shane’s words trail off as he realizes what he wants has been established as off limits. He wants to do everything with Ryan — he wants to welcome him, deep and warm inside, but he also wants to take that round, perfect ass and have fun with it, lose himself in his tightness. 

“I know, baby,” Ryan coos, pressing Shane’s fingers to his lips. 

Shane takes Ryan in hand, relishing in the heavy warmth twitching in his grip. His pull is unrelenting, even greedy — he needs to see Ryan undone before he lets go.

Ryan’s hands are shaking, one fisted in the discarded sheet, the other around Shane’s cock, jerking him off almost as an afterthought. Shane doesn’t mind. He’s determined not to come first. 

His other hand curls around the back of Ryan’s neck, pulls him in until their foreheads are touching and he can feel Ryan’s panted breaths on his lips. 

“Come on,” he says, his voice shaky with need and exertion, “come on me, Ryan.”

Ryan doesn’t need to be told twice. With a filthy kiss, teeth catching on Shane’s bottom lip, he spills, painting Shane’s chest in long white streaks. 

Ryan doesn’t even take a second to catch his breath — immediately, he climbs off the table, drops to his knees and looks up at Shane eagerly. 

“Let me suck you off, baby,” he says hoarsely. 

I mean, how could Shane refuse? He sits up, legs hanging off the table, delighting in the way Ryan’s come cools down on his skin. 

Ryan expertly puts a condom on him, so quick Shane wonders if he pulled it out of thin air or what. He opens his mouth, hungry for whatever Shane has to give him. Shane’s hands curl around his head, guiding him towards his cock, letting it rest heavily on Ryan’s patient tongue. 

Ryan tastes him, fingers stuttering across Shane’s hips, gaze unwavering from Shane’s eyes. 

“Ready?” Shane asks, voice ruined. 

Ryan hums. Shane’s grip on his head tightens and he guides his cock deeper and deeper, slowly so that Ryan can stop him if he needs to. He gives Ryan time to adjust, and soon he’s fucking his face, quick and shallow, in a maddening pound. 

Ryan’s lips look incredible, reddened and spit-slicked, spread wide around his cock, and Shane can’t help thumbing at the stretch, in awe of this little guy who can take whatever Shane gives him. 

From then on it isn’t long before Shane crashes over the edge, Ryan’s name spilling from his lips and come from his cock. Shane collapses on his back, fingers reluctantly letting go of Ryan’s hair. 

Ryan pulls out slowly, peppering soft kisses across Shane’s thighs. Shane only half notices him getting rid of the condom, wiping his own come off Shane’s chest, pulling his bathrobe back on. 

“Come on,” he says gently, taking Shane’s hand. 

Shane climbs off the table on wobbly legs. Ryan helps him into his bathrobe and leads him back to the loveseat. He sits down at one end, helps Shane curling next to him, head in his lap. 

Ryan starts playing with Shane’s hair, gently, softly, his voice a tender thing that makes Shane want to nestle into him. 

“How was it, sweetheart? How do you feel?”

It takes Shane a while to get his brain, then his voice to work, but he eventually manages a weak, but sincere, “Good. Amazing. Thank you, Ryan.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Ryan murmurs. 

Shane drifts off, hands curled into the terrycloth of Ryan’s robe, head pillowed on the strongest thighs he’s ever seen. 

He wakes up to Ryan’s smile, bright as sunshine, hand rubbing Shane’s back.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Ryan says, although it’s probably more like dinner time. 

Shane sits up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

“It’s okay,” Ryan says soothingly. “I’d rather you sleep it off here than drive with a foggy mind.”

“Thanks,” Shane says, heat pooling in his cheeks. “For everything.”

“Did it help?”

“Absolutely.” Shane grins. “I might have to come back.”

Ryan looks away. “Actually… forgive me if this is way out of line, but if your wife is okay with it, if you want… I’d kinda wanna see you outside of work, y’know, to help with the lack of touch, free of charge.”

Shane’s eyes widen. 

“Forget I said anything,” Ryan blurts out, “this was inappropriate—”

Shane cuts him. “I think Sara would be okay with it. I think she might like to meet you.”


End file.
